Chapter Five
The wagon rolled to a halt with a jerk, sending its occupants flying forward. Alanna cried out as her wounded side slammed onto the wooden floorboards, and Anya landed on top of her, followed by nearly half the wagons residents.
The wooden flooring muffled her curses and the frightened sobs that had begun once the latch to their clammy prison had opened. The doors to the side opened, rolling on well used, well oiled hinges. Since they had left the slave market, the rear door had been locked and unopened, their captors or owners or masters as they called themselves had taken to using the side doors. It provided easier access, more room to look at the slaves and sometimes; they rolled the doors open, just a little, and let the fresh air blow through.
Under guard, of course, they were always under guard. When they were allowed to relieve themselves, when they ate, even when they slept, there were always more than four pairs of eyes tracking their every movement. Once Alanna had seen a brief moment for escape, but the moment passed before she could snatch it and run. She also didn't want to leave Anya, the girl who now introduced Alanna as her big sister.
Her eyes watering as she stared into the blinding light, Alanna rose painfully to her feet. The slaves all pushed back into the shadows of the wagon, the shadows that were feared in darkness more safe than the unknown outside. A voice in the light growled a warning and banged on the wagon with an armoured fist.
Swallowing, Alanna wobbled forward, her joints squealing in protest, being the first time she had moved in near twenty-four hours. Coming to the blinding light ,she held the door and waited for her eyes to adjust.
Anya, who now followed her around like a faithful puppy whimpered and clung to Alanna. Holding her wounded and now infected side, Alanna quickly sat down, fighting back a moan of pain.
On her bum, she shuffled forward until she was at the edge of the wagon and slid down the wood to ground. She landed with a grunt and having done it plenty of times, expertly balanced herself while protecting her broken ribs, she walked over to where the guard was directing. Anya jumped down and followed her over the cobblestones. Behind them, there were squeals and cries as the guards gave up waiting and hauled the frightened slaves out of their prison.
Looking around her, Alanna saw they were in a courtyard, not un-similar to the ones at the Palace, though minute in size. Men-at-arms manned the walls with long crossbows slung casually at their sides. To her right was a stable, with people, obviously slaves from the way they walked and what they wore, who scuttled about doing chores. The horses that had pulled the wagon, for the last few days were led off by two young boys who had pale lines from the corner of their mouth and over their cheeks. Alanna stiffened in horror and quickly averted her eyes least they catch her staring. To her left was a big building where burly men in colours of red and purple, it was a terrible blend of colours. In groups, the men at arms came to the door until an entire crowd stood watching the slaves, calling out obscene suggestions and gesturing rudely. Alanna glared at them and turned Anya around, now realizing why they were not in chains. There was no escape from this fortress; death was the only freedom.
The lord and lady had gone ahead in a carriage drawn by horses with coats of snow. Its make was fine, and it seemed to glide over the land rather than hit every root and hole as the slave wagon had done.
They had given charge to an aging man, who looked to be about forty and who gave himself airs. He looked down upon the slaves even worse than the lord and lady who bought them did. He was cruel and often would drag a woman off by her hair to behind a bush and her screams would follow. None of the guards spoke out against him and though the look in their eyes often gave them away when they touched a woman, they never went further than an occasional kiss and touch. His name was Brophy, and he took pleasure in making his boss's slaves lives painful and difficult.
Striding to stand before the slaves, who were lined up, he barked instructions. "Your owners are the Lord and Lady of Golden Fields! You are to address them as such. They are your masters- your owners. Their will is your will. You do what they ask, no questions." His gaze roamed over the slaves to rest on Alanna, who glared at him.
"If you are disobedient, you will be severely punished," he said, seeming to speak only to Alanna. She snarled at him, and shifted her weight, still clutching her burning side. "You are to walk in a line through this door." He gestured at a small wooden door behind him. "And await further instructions."
Taking a deep breath, he surveyed the frightened slaves, all shaking in a huddle, all except the slave he had been told the lord had paid fourteen gold crowns for. The slave glared at him, her amethyst eyes a shocking contrast to her flaming red hair. Brophy licked his lips in anticipation; this one would be worthy of him. All the other women he took, they would not compare to this creature. Yes, Brophy thought as the slave walked past him, the small girl in front of her, this one would be his.
Alanna stood still, once again in breast band and loincloth as the mage ran his fingers over her ribs. Flinching, she cried out softly as he touched one of the broken ones. Pausing, the mage left his finger rest on her red and swollen skin.
The lord cleared his throat, and when the mage looked up, fixed him with a raptor stare. The mage gulped and hurriedly continued his examination of Alanna. Alanna shuddered under his touch, goose bumps gracing her skin as his hands strayed and lingered on her breasts and face. Moistening his lips, he drew his hand down to her navel.
As he went to go lower, Alanna snarled and moved quickly, ignoring her screaming ribs. Grabbing his hand, she pulled it backwards and kneed him between the legs, as he fell she held his arm. The mage clutched his groin with one hand while crying and begging for her to release his wrist.
There was a crack in the air and Alanna hurriedly stepped back, releasing the mage's hand, but she was too late. As the whip lashed across her back, again her arms jerked in reflex and the mage's hand snapped with a sickening crack and he fell to the floor, torn between holding his manhood and his broken wrist.
Alanna cried out as the whip descended to lap her skin again and again and again. "Please!" she pleaded after about eight lashes.
The lord raised his hand, and the lashing stopped. Alanna, who lay crying into the bloody floor, was hauled to her feet by unknown hands and dragged out of the room.
Delirious with pain she began to fight back, kicking, biting and scratching, methods she would be ashamed of later. A sharp blow to the head, and she hung in the guard's hands, stunned.
Coming to a door, it was opened and she was thrown in. Landing with a thud, she lay in a pile as an elderly woman waddled over to her and knelt next to her. Gentle fingers pulled back her shirt to reveal the marks of her whip lashed skin. Soft murmurs reached Alanna's ears as she gasped for breath, her ribs howling with every intake. A trickle of water dampened her skin, and Alanna's back unwillingly arched as her wounds protested. Finding no voice to scream with, she just lay there as her wounds were cleaned and dressed and when she was lowered onto a thin mattress.
As she slipped in and out of consciousness, she began to hallucinate and her past, the memories she wanted to remain buried, came back to haunt her.
Jonathan looked up as she walked in through the door that connected their two rooms. "Alanna," he rasped, looking as though he wanted to drown in her presence. "I'm- I'm so sorry."
Feeling alarmed, Alanna walked over to him. "Is everything alright?"
Jonathan shook his head and looked at the floor as tears threatened to fall out of his eyes. Standing up, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, fiercely and possessively.
There were three hard knocks on his door, and Alanna made to get out of Jonathan's hold, but he hung on and whispered, "I'm so sorry." Before calling to the knocker to come in, that he had her. A group of stern faced guards marched in and two grabbed her as Jonathan passed her over.
Feeling confused, she looked at him and yelled, "Jon! What did you do?"
Then, the door shut behind them and she was marched down the corridors and into the Council of Wars chamber. The king and queen sat at the head of the table, Duke Gareth, Sir Myles, and various other high-ranking nobles all halted their chatter as she was led before the King. Shaking out of the guard's hold she glared at them.
"I can stand by myself, thank you," she snapped before turning and bowing to Their Majesties. Jonathan entered through another door and moved to sit next to his parents.
Alanna looked at him, puzzled and then turned to the rulers, awaiting an explanation.
"Alanna of Trebond?" the king growled.
Alanna nodded and then understanding dawned on her. The king knew her name. He knew who she was, and the only people she had told were George, his mother and Jon… Alanna's head snapped to Jonathan, who refused to meet her eyes, looking anywhere but at his squire, friend, and lover. The guards around her shifted closer, ready to pounce if she were to leap at him and hurt him.
Alanna's energy drained away. How could he? How could Jon betray her? Looking down, she hugged herself as the King asked for an explanation. Staring at the floor, she began speaking, " My name is Alanna. I am of Trebond. My twin brother Thom and me, we look alike." She paused and swallowed. Glancing over to Myles' kind face, she continued bravely, "He didn't want to become a knight. I did and I didn't want to go to the convent. We switched places." Suddenly wanting to protect Thom, she added, "I talked and threatened him into it, so he went to be trained to be a sorcerer, and I came here to become a knight."
There was a rumbling and a stirring as the nobles protested this outrage. The doors opened as Coram was led in, and Alanna briefly met his eyes before returning to her examination of the floor.
Duke Gareth called for silence and spoke to Coram. "Coram, I cannot believe there was no way you didn't know about Alan- Alanna."
Coram turned red and examined the floor like Alanna. "No, Your Grace, I knew," he rumbled ashamed.
The Duke continued, his voice grim, "You do know that it is illegal?"
Alanna's head snapped up and she burst out. "It isn't Coram's fault!" she yelled, ignoring the disapproving looks she was getting. "I threatened to make him see things for the rest of his life, ask anyone! Coram hates magic and I threatened him to do it." Realizing all eyes were once again on her, Alanna quickly looked at the floor, muttering an apology to Duke Gareth.
The Duke nodded to the King. "That is true. Coram has a big fear of magic."
The king nodded and looked at Coram. "Did Alan-Alanna threaten you with magic?"
Coram shook his head as he stared at the floor.
The King frowned, "I need an answer," he snapped.
"No," Coram whispered.
A mage stepped forward. "That was a lie, Your Majesty," he said to the king.
King Roald looked at Coram, who squirmed and tried to make himself as small as possible. "It seems we cannot doubt your loyalty to Tortall. You may leave," the king ordered finally.
Coram shuffled out, with one final look to Alanna, and was gone.
Clearing his throat, Duke Gareth began to read out the charges against her, with the penalty being death.
At this, Jonathan's head jerked up and his eyes became panicked. "Death?" he gasped. "But she, I mean, she saved my life many times."
The King glared at his son. "That could have all been set up!" he hissed. "A ploy to gain your trust and then turn on you!"
Myles cleared his throat. "That may or may not be, Your Majesty, but you should consider what Alanna has done for Tortall."
Myles, trusty Myles. Alanna looked up at him and shook her head, wanting him to stay out of it. "No," she mouthed to him.
Myles pointedly ignored her and continued at Lianne's insistence, "Go on, Sir Myles."
Myles bowed and then began his account. "Firstly, Alanna saved Jonathan's life when he was dying of the Sweating Sickness."
At this, there were murmurs of agreement though there was competition, with a noble crying, "That could have been planned, a way to gain trust of the royal family!"
Alanna looked up and glared at him. About to open her mouth to snap back, she glanced over at Myles and held her silence. Though she didn't lower her head, she listened proudly to the good deeds she had done for Jon and for Tortall. When it came to the Drell Valley, she listened as Myles told the court that Alanna had come to him with the information and he had gone to the king, the king grudgingly confirmed this. He then told how Alanna healed thousands when she was injured and saved Jonathan from getting shot by an archer. When he told about the Ysandir or the Nameless Ones, no one was willing to dispute. All had heard about how the Bazhir had knelt on the streets for the prince and his squire to be.
Alanna stared blankly at the wall as Myles finished and bowed. Arguments broke out with half screaming for her to burn upon Traitor's Hill and the other half, mostly her teachers, arguing for all she had done she should be treated kindly.
With half the room divided between banishment and death, the king turned to his son. "Jonathan, what do you think"?
Jonathan's eyes flicked to Alanna unwillingly before he quickly looked anywhere but at her. "Why did you tell me about your squire?" Alanna felt a pang of betrayal at hearing the words, confirming what she already knew.
Jonathan gulped and looked down, "Because she is a woman," he said finally, grasping his hands.
The king smiled grimly. Standing, he declared, "For your crimes against the Crown, you, Alanna of Trebond, will be put to death!"
Alanna said nothing as the guards closed in on her, and missed the mortified looks of her teachers, the people who cared for her. She also missed the look of horror on Jonathan's face; Myles spotted it and stored it away for later use.
"Roald," the queen rasped, her sickness truly taking a toll on her health. The king leaned down to her, and she gasped, "I will not allow the woman who saved our son to be killed."
Jonathan looked at his mother in shock.
Roald glared at his wife. "She has broken our laws. Not only that, but imagine what our enemies…" he began but was interrupted.
"She has saved our son's life. Shall our enemies and allies say we are not merciful to those that assist us- those that help our people and kingdom? That we are too proud to spare the one who saved…" She choked off in a coughing fit, and Duke Braid made his way to her and placed a hand on her chest. The queen didn't need to complete her sentence, the meaning was clear. She wanted Alanna to live.
The king sighed and then proclaimed, "Alanna of Trebond, you are herby banished from within the realm of Tortall for seven years!" Jonathan gasped and Alanna looked up in shock- be without her beloved Tortall? "If you return, you are to be treated as a visiting noble from another country. From this day forth, you can no longer call yourself a Tortallan!"
Alanna felt numb, as she was lead down the hall to her room and given bags to pack her stuff, a group of guards stationed outside her door as she packed.
Tears streaked down her face as Faithful wound his way between her legs, purring comfortingly as only a cat can. There was a scuffle outside and then the door opened. Alanna continued to pack, ignoring Jonathan who stood in the doorway.
He closed the door behind him as he walked into the room, ignoring the guards. Locking the door, he watched Alanna pack. Alanna looked to the window; it had started raining.
"What do you want?" she snapped, her voice unable to show her feelings of pain and betrayal. Jonathan cautiously moved to stand behind her and she shied away from him.
Following her until she was pressed against the wall, he asked her to look at him. Alanna glared up at him through the tears, refusing to acknowledge her pounding heart as he reached up and brushed her tears away. Leaning down, until he was right in front of her he said, "I am so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen."
"Then why did you tell?" Alanna snarled. "In a few months, I would have passed my Ordeal and I would be a knight! Then I would have told everyone." Alanna looked away as tears streaked across her face. "Why did you tell?"
Jonathan closed his eyes. "You wouldn't believe me-"
Alanna jerked back to look at him. "Try me."
Sighing, Jonathan haltingly began to speak. "I love you." Before Alanna could interrupt him, he pressed his mouth onto hers. Alanna's reply was lost as he kissed her, throwing all his love and passion into her lips. Breaking the kiss, he leaned back. "I couldn't bear the thought of you getting hurt, of you leaving me and not coming back."
There was a knock at the door, and Myles walked in. Jonathan stared at Alanna as she took this in and looked over at Myles.
Myles looked from Alanna to Jonathan and raised an eyebrow. "Alan-na," he said as he came closer. "You have to be gone within the next hour. The king commands it."
He looked to Jonathan, who still had Alanna pinned to the wall. Jonathan leaned back and let Alanna off the wall. She nodded to Myles and continued packing.
"Go away Jon," she whispered through her tears. "Please."
Jonathan nodded and clenched his jaw. His fingers twitched and he made to touch her, but at a hiss from Faithful he stopped. Lowering his head, his shoulders hunched, he walked into his room and shut the door.
Myles looked at Alanna, who was staring at Jonathan's door with something like desire. She was still crying as she packed. Myles walked over to her and wrapped her in an embrace. She returned the hug as hard as she could.
"Promise you will write?" he asked, rubbing her back.
Alanna nodded into his shirt, wetting it with tears. "When I can. I'll send them to George and he will send them on."
Myles nodded. Leaning back, Myles stared into her eyes. "None of this," he told her, "is your fault." Alanna nodded, and closed her eyes, furiously wiping tears. "You can still help people, Alanna of Trebond. Knighthood will not be your means." Sniffing, Alanna accepted the handkerchief Myles offered and blew her nose. "Keep it," he instructed her. "You will have more use of it than I."
Looking around and seeing the majority of her gear packed, Myles told Alanna, "I will go and get you some food for the journey and retrieve the letter from the king." Alanna's ears pricked up at the mention of a letter and Myles explained, "The king figured you would make straight for the Tusaine border, so he has instructions for the commander in charge to let you cross."
Alanna nodded and turned her back on her room as Myles left, telling her to saddle Moonlight and ordering the guards to carry her saddlebags down to the stables.
Deciding to make for a quick exit, Alanna allowed herself to be marched down the halls, past the curious looks of her fellow squires, pages, and the puzzled looks of many knights and to the stables. Stefan was awakened and stumbled out of the hayloft.
As soon as he saw "Alan" under guard he asked if he was needed. The captain of the guards who were Alanna's chaperones shook his head but asked for all of Alan's personal belongings to be packed onto the mare. Stefan looked at the piles and then looked at the small palomino horse and shook his head.
"That thar horse will a not hold all of that," he told the guard captain and stood his ground when the man glared at him.
Alanna sighed. She knew her trusty mare couldn't hold that much, but she didn't know what else to do. "I'll just take the bare essentials," she said and began to rearrange Moonlight's saddlebags.
Faithful, who had been wandering around the stables, appeared out of nowhere and took a flying leap to land on the special cup in her saddle. He sat there, regal and proud, as the guards stepped back, military training barely preventing them making the ward against evil above their chests. Faithful hissed at them and Alanna glared at them.
"He is just a cat," she snapped, and the guards were saved from an enraged rant as Myles came into the stables carrying a bag and a scroll.
Seeing the majority of Alanna's bags in a pile on the stable floor, he raised an eyebrow as he approached.
"Moonlight cannot carry all of my gear, so I have no choice," she informed him, answering his unasked question.
Myles appraised her and came to a decision. "I will store all of your belongings and keep them for you when you return," he told her, smiling gently when he saw her eyes light up in gratitude. "In the morning, I will have the belongings left in your room sent to Olau and stored."
Alanna tried to smile her gratitude through her tears and briefly thought about hugging him, but the presence of the guards halted her actions. With a flick of his hand, Myles dismissed them, saying, "What can this one girl do to me inside my king's palace?" when they questioned his orders. He dropped his food bags over Moonlight's saddle and embraced Alanna fiercely.
"Thank you, Myles," Alanna whispered as she returned the hug.
A stable boy came running up to Stefan, who was re-checking Moonlight's girth. "A horse is calicing in stall three," he told the stable master.
Stefan looked at Alanna. "Best be off, Squire Alan," he said, nodding to her. Alanna felt a pang; she hadn't the heart to tell him who she was. "I'll be letting His Majesty know come morning." With a final stroke of Moonlight's nose, he was gone, the stable boy trotting after him after shooting a puzzled look at Alanna, leaving her and Myles alone.
Swallowing, she looked at her mentor and friend. There was a loud rumbling, and light flashed across the sky; the storm that had been brewing was finally upon them. Feeling tentative about riding in such a storm, she considered staying until the storm passed, but she did not want to see the looks on her friends' faces when it was announced she was a traitor and was banished from Tortall.
Clenching her jaw, she allowed Myles to boot her into the saddle and guide her, Moonlight and Faithful to the open stable door. Staring out into the night, she saw the rain when lightning whipped and lit the water. Pulling her coat tighter around her and over her belongings, she gripped Myles's hand in a farewell squeeze and, before she lost her nerve, nudged her mare into the night, leaving Myles standing in the stable alone watching after her disappearing from view. There was a light on in the prince's room, but she refused to look, lest she see him once more.
Authors Note:
Come one guys, where are my comments? I'm beginning to think no one is reading…
We will be seeing more of Jonathan and Co in the chapters to come :D